


Teach Me How to Touch You

by gatheringblues



Series: The Domestic Bliss of Anne Lister and Ann Walker [3]
Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: (historically. it's in her journals), (though she made occassional exceptions), Ann Walker is a baby queer when it comes to sex, Domestic Bliss, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, F/F, Fingerfucking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Vaginal Fingering, anne lister is stone butch, lesbians in love, very light objectification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25868425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatheringblues/pseuds/gatheringblues
Summary: Ann Walker wants to learn how to make her wife orgasm. Lots of discussion about sex before, during, and after because consent is sexy and processing makes me wet."Why won't you let me touch you?" Ann asked. The words left her mouth before she realized she was going to say them, but she didn’t try to take them back. She’d been wondering for a while why Anne always politely refused her efforts of reciprocation."You make me feel so good," Ann said softly. "I want to know how to make you feel like that."
Relationships: Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Ann Walker (1803-1854)
Series: The Domestic Bliss of Anne Lister and Ann Walker [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700134
Comments: 25
Kudos: 102





	Teach Me How to Touch You

Ann’s hips moved in a slow circle in time with Anne’s fingers, her bum rubbing against her wife. She reached behind herself and wove her fingers through her wife’s loose, brown hair. She pulled Anne’s head down to her neck. She wanted her wife’s lips on her skin. Anne kissed her, making her moan again.

Don’t mark me," she managed to say. "I’ve only just been able to stop wearing shawls."

"But then how will people know you belong to me?" Anne teased. The rumble in her chest and throat made Ann shiver.

"Everyone knows I belong to you, sweetheart. They’re just too polite to say it," Ann said. Her wife bit her neck where it turned into her shoulder, and Ann cried out at the pain that was the same as pleasure.

"Shh," Anne cautioned with laughter in her voice.

Ann bit her lip and felt herself drip between her thighs. She loved to be loud, but it always turned her on when Anne had to remind her to keep herself under control.

Anne dragged her palm over Ann’s swollen clit and sunk her fingers inside her wife while she pinched Ann’s nipple with her other hand.

Ann whimpered in her attempt to keep quiet.

Anne brought her soaked fingers back up to her wife’s clit and massaged her tender nipple. In seconds Ann was rocking her hips into her wife’s fingers and arching into her hand. Cradled in Anne’s arms, with her back pressed to Anne’s front, Ann felt completely enveloped. She could barely reach Anne, but it was worth the uncomfortable twist so she could capture Anne’s lips for a kiss. Then she let herself fall into her wife’s arms and let the quivers take over her body until she had to bury her face in the pillow to muffle her scream.  
In the afterglow, sweat cooled her skin and the rise and fall of Anne’s chest against her back was almost enough to lull her back to sleep.

"Why won't you let me touch you?" Ann asked, her voice lazy from satisfaction. The words left her mouth before she realized she was going to say them, but she didn’t try to take them back. She’d been wondering for a while why Anne always politely refused her efforts of reciprocation.  
Anne sighed. "I just like it better."

"How can you know? You’ve never let me try."

"I know how I like to be touched," Anne tried.

"You could teach me!"

There was a very long pause where Ann was certain her wife was just about to say something. She kept taking quick breaths, opening her mouth to speak, and then looking away.

"You make me feel so good," Ann said softly. "I want to know how to make you feel like that."

"Okay," Anne said in so small a whisper that Ann barely heard her. Her eyes were wide and she looked like a scared child.

"You don’t have to," Ann said. She knew how she’d felt when she thought she couldn’t say no—her thoughts glanced off the shards of memories—she never wanted Anne to feel like that.

"I think it might be good," Anne said, her voice regaining confidence. Anne smiled — the broken smile that tried to hide all her pain — and Ann’s heart broke for her.

"Could you tell me why this is hard for you?" she asked.

Her wife’s eyes shuttered. "It doesn’t feel right when someone else does it."  
Ann took a deep breath at the reminder that her wife had been intimate with women before her. She was trying not to care. Society had trained her, but it didn’t have room for people like herself and her wife, so its rules needn’t apply. Besides, Anne’s history wasn’t the point right now. She was Anne’s present and her future, and all she wanted was to make her wife happy.

"I have an idea. Before you touch me tonight, I want to watch you touch yourself, and I want you to tell me what you’re doing whilst you do it."

Anne blushed a verdant red and Ann giggled. It was difficult to make her wife blush and she was pleased with her success. She pushed Anne down onto the bed and straddled her hips. Normally her wife took control, and Ann found the change in dynamic heady. She took a shaky breath to regain some presence of mind and kissed her wife.  
She wanted the kiss to be gentle and reassuring but passion overtook her after their first soft kiss. She tangled her fingers in Anne’s hair and held her down while she devoured her. Her wife’s hands ran up and down her sides, her leg, and across her back leaving trails of heat wherever they went. Ann’s heart beat in her ears and she moaned into the kiss.

Anne hitched up her shift, pressing her hands onto Ann’s bare skin. She caressed Ann’s ass, ran her fingers up her spine, and cupped both breasts. Anne rubbed her nipples with her thumb and Ann felt herself tensing, getting ready for the pinch. Still, she groaned when her wife tugged on the nubs and broke off the kiss.

"I want to touch you," Anne said.

"Mmm, I want that too, but first I want to watch you come," Ann said.

"Couldn’t I give you one more orgasm first?" Anne whispered right in her ear. Her voice was a low rumble with a teasing lilt. She smoothed her hands on Ann’s legs, her thumbs brushing along her sensitive inner thighs.  
Heat pooled in Ann’s belly but she forced herself to pull away from her wife’s magical hands. "Patience," she teased and shifted onto the bed. She lay on her side and nestled into Anne’s body so they were pressed together from breast to thigh.

Playfully she walked her fingers down Anne’s torso, and then she tugged her wife’s shirt up to reveal a curly bush of hair. "Show me what makes you feel good," she whispered.

Anne’s hand stuttered toward her clit. She dipped her fingers inside and brought them, glistening, to her clit. She let out a little mewl that Ann only caught because she was so close to her wife’s lips.

"That’s it," Ann said. "Tell me what you’re doing."

"I like it when I’m really wet," Anne said. Her voice was normal until she got to the end of the sentence where it caught. She couldn’t look at Ann.

"Good," Ann said. "How are you touching yourself?"

Anne hummed. "On the sides, up and down, like this." She demonstrated with her other hand. "You like big circles to start out, near the top of the hood. I like - " her voice caught again, "- this."  
Ann listened more attentively than she ever had in her lessons. Her gaze flicked between her wife’s hand and her flushed face.

"To start … to start I like it faster away, right up against the labia majora, as far as you can get away from my clitoris while still part of the vulva."  
Ann would have to ask her exactly what she meant later. Anne sometimes used medical terms in bed without realizing.

"As I get more turned on I move my fingers closer bit by bit until…" Anne tossed her head to the side and groaned. Ann couldn’t look away from her face as she writhed with pleasure. "Until I’m squeezing my clit from the side."  
Ann couldn’t hold herself still and silent any longer. "You’re so beautiful, so beautiful," she whispered as she kissed her wife’s temple. She wanted to push Anne’s hands away and replace them with her own. Not yet. She had to wait.

"Then I switch to big circles right over the head of my clit," Anne said. Her voice was breathy now and she was rocking rhythmically into Ann.

Ann rocked with her. She had to keep reminding herself to breathe. Desire coiled tighter in her abdomen. She wanted.

"The circles get tighter and tighter on the. Head. Of. My. Clit. Until —" Anne threw her head back and arched off the bed.

"Until?" Ann teased.

"Until. It feels. So. Good. Like this." Anne managed between gasps.

"Then what?" Ann asked. It was endearing to watch her eloquent wife struggle to speak.

"Kiss me," Anne demanded.

Ann kissed her fiercely and deep, cradling Anne’s head until her wife started to shake out of her grasp. Anne’s mouth opened in a silent scream. She stared deeply into Ann’s eyes and a torrent of come splashed onto the sheets. She jerked a final few times and then her hand fell to the mattress. She closed her eyes and sighed.  
They were both sticky with sweat, but Ann cuddled into her wife’s replete body.

"You’re incredible," Ann said. She was brimming with love and arousal and pride.

Anne hummed noncommittally and they lay in a wordless daze for a while.

"What did you do at the end?" Ann asked when her wife had recovered enough for speech.

"Same movement. More pressure," Anne said. She sounded like she was falling asleep.

"Hey! Don’t fall asleep! You said you would make me come again," Anne said, shaking her gently but not enough to actually wake her up.

"I’ll get you in the morning," Anne said, turning on her side and burying her face in Anne’s chest.

"I see why you always insist I go first," Anne said, teasing.

"Mmmm?" Anne mumbled.

"Go to sleep, darling," Ann said and kissed the top of her wife’s head.

* * *

Several days later Ann was tackled onto the chesterfield in the chaumière by her insatiable wife. Anne kissed her until her lips were swollen. "I love you in this dress. You look so proper, it makes me want to muss you."

"I’ll remember that," Ann said breathlessly. "I will wear it the next time we host dinner and you must be on your best behaviour."

"You’ll be the death of me," Anne said fondly. She pushed up the layers of Ann’s skirts and slipped two fingers inside her body. Ann sighed with pleasure.

She relaxed into the cushions as Anne moved slowly inside her with long, gentle strokes. She felt her muscles loosen and little more each time Anne pressed inside her, stretching her open and occasionally teasing her by brushing her clit.

When she came, it rolled over her so tenderly it felt like waking up after a good night’s rest, her muscles contracting and stretching in a satisfying awareness of being alive and awake in a world full of wonder.  
She settled into the chesterfield with a contented sigh. Anne smiled, looking both tentative and hopeful. Her eyes were smoking like a banked fire. 

"May I touch you?" Ann said before her wife had to ask.

Anne nodded, her eyes darting away in embarrassment. Ann brushed her wife’s jaw and tilted her head for a kiss. She poured her affection and admiration into it, hoping to fill her wife with confidence. A year into their marriage and Anne still didn’t always believe she deserved love.

"Come here," Ann whispered, welcoming her wife into her arms.

Anne settled between her legs so that her back nestled into Ann’s front. Ann wrapped her wife in a hug and kissed her neck with butterfly softness. "You know I love you, right?" Ann asked.

Anne said, "I know," and Ann felt her smile. "I love you too."

Ann continued to kiss her wife’s neck while she searched for the slit in her wife’s skirt and pushed through the folds of her petticoat. There was something heavy in Anne’s pockets.

"What have you got in here?" Ann teased as she untied them."

"Rocks and a book," Anne said.

"What!? Why?" Ann said, laughing. Her wife was eccentric and she loved it. She pulled the pocket off through the skirt and placed them on the floor.

"They were interesting," her wife said as Ann rucked up her shift.

"Don’t tell me you have a collection of ‘interesting’ rocks hidden away at Shibdon," Anne said.

"I —" Anne started, but cut off when Ann cupped her muff.

"Tell me what feels good, and if you want me to do anything differently," Ann said. Her wife nodded, breathing quickly through her nose, desire warring with uncertainty.  
Ann gathered slick on her fingers and brought them to her wife’s clit. The first brush of her fingers made Anne squirm against her in discomfort.

"Not so direct," Anne said.

Ann paused and readjusted. She thought she’d been far enough away but Anne was even more sensitive than she’d realized. She spread her fingers and tried to move the same way Anne had shown her. "Like this?"  
Anne hummed in pleasure. Ann could feel heat rising from her wife’s body even through the layers of clothes and the stiff boning in her corset. She kept stroking until Anne said, "Closer."  
She moved her fingers the slightest bit closer, pressing more firmly on the side of Anne’s clit. She loved the way her wife’s clit felt. It was smaller than her own and the hood was shorter. Each stroke pulled the hood over the nub of her wife’s swollen clit.

"You feel so good," Ann said. "I love that you trust me enough to let me touch you. I love you so much. I’m so happy I married you. I will spend the rest of my life loving you, every day and every night."  
Anne shuddered in her arms. Her breathing was heavy. Ann could feel her rapid breaths against her own chest.

"You can make noise, you know," Ann murmured.

"It’s hard to let go," Anne said.

"I know, my love," Ann said. She moved her fingers closer together by a fraction and her wife moaned softly. "I’ve got you."

Anne twisted around to kiss her. Ann tried to keep her hand moving the way Anne liked it, but the angle was too awkward. Her hand slipped and Anne hissed as her fingers grazed the tip of her clit.

"Sorry," Ann said, removing her hand quickly.

"It’s okay. Try again," Anne said, settling back between her wife’s arms and widening her legs.

Ann’s breath caught in her throat. How did she get so lucky? She returned her hand to her wife’s muff. Anne was dripping. She collected some on her fingers and then touched her wife the way she’d been taught. Anne hummed appreciatively and relaxed into her wife. Moments later she gasped and demanded, "More!"

Ann moved her fingers down to the head of Anne’s clit, uncertain if that’s what her wife was asking for.

"Christ, yes. Just like that," Anne said and moaned. She rocked her hips with Ann’s hand.

Ann’s fingers were tiring, but she wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop until her wife was satisfied.

"I’m so close," Anne gasped. "Just a little more."

Ann pressed down hard on her wife’s clit. Anne’s sob broke halfway through. "No. Not that. Just …"

Ann stopped altogether. Had she hurt Anne somehow? What should she do?

"Don’t stop!" Anne said, "Don’t stop, but …" she pushed her hand through the slits in her skirts, "like this." She placed her hand on top of her wife’s and used Ann’s hand to touch herself.

Ann’s mouth dropped open. She face flushed so warm it felt like a raw sunburn. She loved that Anne was using her like a tool to get herself off. She tried to pay attention how her wife was making her move her hand, but she was too caught up with the little whimpers escaping Anne’s lips.

Anne vibrated as she approached her orgasm. Ann followed the jerks of her hips until Anne threw back her head and silently screamed, staring deeply into Ann’s eyes as she came. Ann’s chest was tight. She was so enraptured that she couldn’t breathe. Satiated, Anne’s eyes fluttered and she sank into her wife. 

Ann kissed her hair, her temple, and her cheek. "You’re incredible," she said and guided their joined hands out of Anne’s skirts.

"I love you," Anne said.

"And I love you."

"Might we try that again sometime?" Anne asked. Her eyes were already closing.

"Whenever you like." Ann promised, smoothing down her wife’s hair and kissing her on the temple again. Within moments Anne was asleep in her arms.

**Author's Note:**

> One of my current hyperfixations is historical dress. Women in the 1830s would have worn a shift, under-petticoat, petticoat, and corset as under garments, sometimes with a corset-cover to smooth the top of the corset.  
> Pockets were in a state of transition. Some pockets were sewn into the seams and waist of the outer skirt, like we still do today. For other outfits, pockets were a seperate item. They were essentially two bags on a string tied around the waist between the under-petticoat and petticoat. The outer skirt and petticoat would have a gap in the side seams to allow women to reach through their skirts to access the pockets.
> 
> I got sidetracked in research about euphamisms for the vulva, clit, and vagina throughout history. They were all useless for this fic (the style is too modern), so I had to fall back on modern terms.  
> I absolutely HATE most slang used to describe female anatomy these days. I want something that is sexy and not derrogatory. Easier said than done.  
> What slang do all y'all prefer in your femmeslash?


End file.
